


Love, a fairytale of Death

by ailend



Series: Dancing with The Death [2]
Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailend/pseuds/ailend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to Wenn ich tanzen will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, a fairytale of Death

When parents are done telling their children how every fairy tales end with happily ever after for the prince and his princess, and the king and his queen, and then close the book and kiss their children goodnights in the forehead and leave them in the dark of night, begins a tale of an unbecoming love between two beings, a love that comes between a man, adored by everyone who has the chance of knowing him, and a lonely, spiteful creature named Death, who only knows death and nothing of living a life.

 

The story starts with a renowned _Once upon a time in a Kingdom so far away_ \-- however it is not really a cliché because this story begins when a fairy tale ends.

 

“It’s a celebration!” exclaims a maid, a big grin decorates her plump, kind face as she runs across the hallway and spread the news around.

 

“A celebration it is! A prince has born in our Kingdom!” another shouts with a smile so bright it put the glaring sun outside the castle to a shame.

 

From one mouth to another the joyous news then travels so fast that in no time the whole Kingdom is celebrating the event.

 

In a grand room where the King and Queen rest at night, a fairly young woman sits propped against the head bed. Her beautiful face still pale from the hard labor she just experienced to bring a new life to the world. She looks at the sleeping bundle in her arms, an adorable newborn who still has red puffy skin and even redder tiny luscious lips, and whispers lovingly, “Junsu. The world will know my son and honor him as Prince Junsu.”

 

The King agrees as he makes a move to pick the small bundle of life into his own arms and the King smiles when a tiny tongue comes out to lick those tiny red lips. He walks out of the room feeling like a very proud father to have such an adorable son, and quickly heads to the announcement balcony just across the hallway to share his happiness with his people.

 

The crowds that has been gathering in the yard outside the main castle after hearing the news immediately tone down their excitements to a hush when the sound of trumpets echoing in the air, a notice of the King’s arrival.

 

The King looks around at the growing crowds. His face radiates immense happiness that is mirrored in the crowds’ knowing face. “Junsu,” the King announces proudly as he lifts the fast asleep newborn up in the air, “is the name of my son! The Crown Prince you, my loyal people, shall love and adore!”

 

The crowds cheer loudly, and it is all the King needs to hear from his people, that they are just as happy as he is with the birth of Prince Junsu.

 

The King turns from the crowds and goes back to his room, to where his Queen has been waiting. The Queen reaches out for her baby and the King settles the bundle back into her arms, and Junsu’s tiny fingers instinctively clenching onto the Queen’s sleeve. 

 

However no one notices that in the farthest corner in the room, where the shadow is the darkest, stands a creature by the form of a pale albeit very handsome young man wearing black attires. His hair is shoulder-length with the darkest shade of black and his irises, too, have the same color, a contrast comparison to his milky skin and red lips. He has the appearance of a charming man who led a great life, yet it also screams his solitude.

 

The cold gaze of this creature in disguise however falls upon the small bundle of life. Then a malicious grin forms in the creature’s face, displaying a set of white pearl teeth.

 

“Welcome to the world, Prince Junsu. I am Yoochun, your Death.”

 

Once the words are spoken out in the air, the small bundle immediately cries and Yoochun watches as the Queen promptly coos at her baby while the King pats the upset baby fondly.

 

Yoochun knows this happiness is not for long. He is sent here for a certain reason, and obviously it is not to celebrate the beginning of Prince Junsu’s life, but there hasn’t been any death around and Junsu looks very alive.

 

Yoochun throws another look at the small bundle of life who is now looking at his direction with glassy round eyes. The cries stop as sudden as it starts, and Junsu blinks curious eyes at him. The newborn is aware of his presence and thus it’s his cue to leave.

 

For now anyway, because Yoochun will definitely come again, and maybe then.

 

Junsu is the name that Yoochun has been assigned to, and this marks their first meeting of many in the time yet to come.

 

~♥~

 

The second time they meet is when Junsu is old enough to run across the hallway with his short legs. As a little boy, Junsu can’t sit still and the maids always seen to be running after him, but of course Junsu is too adorable a kid that no one ever gets irritated with the overactive boy. He is, after all, just a little boy.

 

One day Junsu plays hide-and-seek with the maids, and he hides from them at his newest hiding place rather than his usual hiding place under-the-bed. With little chubby legs, runs Junsu to the labyrinth garden in the backyard of Royal House and hides.

 

So young is this Junsu he can’t see that the labyrinth is not a children playground. The place reeks with rats and other vicious animals after being abandoned for so long. Yoochun watches Junsu hides himself behind the crook of the bushes and maybe the thrill of hiding from his personal maids is too much that the little boy is not aware for the threat in the form of a loony dog looming from behind him, jaws messy with foam and saliva dribbling down its mouth, and its bloody red eyes.

 

Junsu looks up when he feels a presence. Instead of finding one of his maid, Junsu is looking at a big ugly dog that spots him like it has spotted a feast. It growls menacingly and looks like it has been possessed by devils, and it maybe is.

 

“Prince Junsu! Watch out!”

 

It happens too fast for the young Junsu to grasp. One second ago he is frozen on his knees as fear begin to take over him, the next he is thrown to the ground hard as a maid shields him from the dog’s attack. Junsu hears barks and then there are struggles, the sound of rip clothes and splatters of blood, and screaming and then silence.

 

Nothing.

 

Junsu tries to open his eyes and the sight is so horrific that he can’t scream his fear away. Then people is crowding him and picks him up and holds him and then Junsu can see the pool of blood, and the ugly things is dead with arrows stick in the many part of its body, and the maid, who protects him, is Junsu’s favorite, the one who spoils him with midnight snacks and candies and chocolates-- and Junsu cries, a sob at first and then escalates until it echoes so loud in the labyrinth.

 

As Yoochun moves from his place to take the soul of the old maid, Junsu’s eyes caught him and the little boy’s cries immediately subside.

 

“Are you going to take her away?” Junsu asks with a hiccup as he gestures timidly to the transparent soul of the maid standing passively and unmoving behind Yoochun.

 

Yoochun nods, expressionless, but his eyes are keen on the little boy.

 

“Is she going to be okay in the new place?” Junsu asks again. His voice is only a whisper carry out to Yoochun by the wind, as the Royal soldier who holds Junsu walks away from the horrible scene.

 

Yoochun doesn’t answer and only looks at Junsu with a frown.

 

This time Yoochun is supposed to take Junsu’s life because the little boy’s thread of life has almost reached an end. Instead another thread of life, the maid’s, has woven into Junsu’s thread of life and lengthens the span. Yoochun has never had a rare case like this, but well, it’s a play of Fate, and his work as Death is not to question Fate. So, off Yoochun goes with the maid’s soul in tow.

 

~♥~

 

The third time of their meeting, Junsu is already a grown up young man, probably only looking three or four years younger than Yoochun’s unchanging appearance.

 

As a young man, Junsu looks fragile with his pale and thin appearance, although still one can’t deny that the prince is an attractive man, even when he is dying.

 

Yoochun is there, right beside the Prince’s bed, watching with little compassion as Junsu lies on his bed, writhing from the pain he suffers.

 

Junsu has been sick with a disease so rare that has the Royal Doctor given up his title looking for a cure. The Kingdom is gloom with worry for their Crown Prince’s condition. Many have volunteered to look up for a cure in another Kingdom, and the neighborhood Kingdom even sympathizes with them and sends their best doctor to cure Junsu. However to no avail are all those efforts, because Junsu is still sick.

 

Time passes by and the Crown Prince is getting weaker and weaker that many have thought of mourning. The King is grieving and the Queen can’t stop her tears from the thought of losing their only son.

 

“Who are you?” A hoarse voice asks, startling Yoochun from his reverie.

 

Yoochun belatedly realizes it comes from the sick young man in the bed. He raises a brow.

 

“You can see me?” Yoochun asks back, a little incredulous that a man that is no longer a child can see him.

 

“Are you going to take me away?”

 

Yoochun moves from his place and takes a closer look at Junsu. It is clear in Yoochun’s sight that the remaining thread of life of Junsu is very short, it is only a matter of minutes before the young man’s soul leaves his body.

 

“Yes,” he answers curtly and watches Junsu’s fluttering eyes as the young man is struggling to keep his eyes open.

 

 _Soon,_ he thoughts eagerly. His fingers are itching to grab for the soul as soon as the thread of life burns to the end.

 

“What is your name?” Junsu shifts his body with great effort to face Yoochun and then lifts one trembling hand as if he is trying to reach Yoochun’s in a warm introduction.

 

Yoochun doesn’t take it, only looks at Junsu with his cold gaze.

 

“Yoochun,” he says a moment later. Junsu’s thread of life is reaching it’s end, and maybe just for a little, Yoochun pity him.

 

Dying at such a young age is like a waste of time living without actually experiencing the life itself. But Yoochun will never know of such thing as living a life, Yoochun is, after all, Death.

 

It burns and burns quicker to the end, and Yoochun is reaching for Junsu’s hand, for the soul that already slips out a bit on the edge.

 

The burns never reach an end.

 

Another thread of life has, once again, woven in with Junsu’s and lengthen it yet again.

 

Yoochun draws back his hand from Junsu’s as if he gets burned. He curses and turns away from the sick Prince, who has fallen into unconsciousness.

 

The Death can’t believe the same miracle happens twice to a same person.

 

Muttering under his breath, Yoochun seeks for the cause this time, because he can feel a soul waiting for him nearby.

 

A commotion is coming from the King and Queen’s room. Then, when Yoochun sees the still beautiful albeit pale looking Queen laying immobile on the bed and her soul standing quietly beside its body, he frowns.

 

He has her soul in his hands instead of Junsu’s.

 

Well, there is a saying third time’s the charm, and maybe next time will be the last for Junsu.

 

~♥~

 

“I remember you,” the man resting on the bed says softly.

 

Yoochun shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. It doesn’t surprise him anymore that the twenty four year old Junsu still can see him.

 

Still, the now handsome and grown up Prince Junsu intrigues him.

 

Twice. The man has been saved twice from Death’s clutches by some miracles, and Yoochun doesn’t like that, even more so when he doesn’t know why it happens.

 

Yoochun is Death, and by his name is a sense of finality. When Death comes, it means a life has come to an end, and nothing is supposed to come in between. Life and Death work like Yin and Yang of Chinese belief, one is there to balance the other. Nothing is coming in between Life and Death. Not even miracle.

 

“Then you know who I am.”

 

“Y- yes,” the man rasps out with difficulty.

 

The struggle against pain is not invisible from Yoochun’s eyes. Slowly he traces the man’s face that has contorted with pain. How the man’s lips thin out into a hard line, the jaw that has clamped shut into a deep frown, the creases that mar the poor’s man forehead, to the slight sheen of sweat that has formed on the sun-kissed skin.

 

Despite all of it, though, the Prince looks very mesmerizing for Death. Or is it because Yoochun enjoys the pain that mar the beauty?

 

Yoochun’s lips curl maliciously. Soon, the man will be freed from the pain. Very soon.

 

For a fleeting moment, Yoochun wonders if the Prince will once again evade death that befalls him through an accident this morning.

 

Junsu is riding a horse and hunting deers with his fellow friends in the nearby forest, but unfortunately his horse has unexpectedly gone wild when their little circle come across a group of hungry wolf instead. Junsu is thrown to the ground by the horse and has been stomped on the chest very hard when the horse is trying to run away that his ribcage cracks.

 

It is by luck- _or is it another miracle?_ that Death doesn’t come to him instantly just then.

 

“Death isn’t you?”

 

Again, Yoochun only shrugs his shoulders. His eyes are set on Junsu’s thread of life that burns shorter as the seconds tick by.

 

“You can call me, Yoochun.”

 

“Why-” the man wheezes out and coughs hard.

 

Yoochun understands what the sick man is trying to say, and, after Junsu’s cough has subsided, he answers indifferently, “I don’t know anything more than what you know.”

 

The time is close, very close and Yoochun can’t help the giddiness he feels. There is no miracle and Junsu will soon follow him to the after world.

 

Junsu is writhing with pain, and his breath is getting shallow, and shallower. The young man is gasping for air, his left hand tightly clenching on the sheets while his other hand grabbing at his loose outfit just above his chest. Yoochun hovers close, enjoying the pain manifested on the oh-so-beautiful face.

 

“Y-yoo-chun...” Junsu rasps out to him, reaching out for the Death himself.

 

Death only watches him closely, anticipating the end of the Prince’s life.

 

However, Yoochun watches with wide disbelief eyes, it seems that a miracle intercept Junsu’s fate once again. Another thread of life has smoothly interwoven with Junsu’s.

 

Yoochun growls with hostility. It’s the fucking third time this man has messed up his assignment as Death. He reaches for Junsu’s neck, whose consciousness has slipped off of him like sands in the hourglass, as if Death would love to take Junsu’s life by force. Instead Yoochun closes his fingers around the thin air just a breath away from Junsu’s neck. Despite of his rage that fate has cheated the Prince’s life yet again, he still doesn’t have the authorities to kill and claim the man’s death as he wishes.

 

His eyes watch the pale beautiful face closely and his cold fingers trails on the smooth cheek. The Prince has inherited the beauty from the Queen. So beautiful is the Prince, Junsu makes Yoochun feel a strong desire to possess him.

 

He snorts at the foolish thought. At the end of one’s life, they will eventually be in his possession.

 

Yoochun is, after all, Death.

 

Straightening up, Death turns his back from the sleeping man. There will be another time for them, and for whatever it takes, Yoochun vows that he will be the one to bring death upon Junsu.

 

~♥~

 

“Do you come to take her away?”

 

The Death steps away from the dark and moves closer to the man who just speaks to him.

 

The reckless young man Yoochun has seen years before is gone, and is replaced by the charismatic man in front of him, who no longer known by the Prince title. Junsu is now the beloved King of the Kingdom, and of course as a handsome King, he has a beautiful Queen by his side.

 

Yoochun glances over at the woman lying still on the grand bed, Junsu’s Queen, who apparently doesn’t look that beautiful at all when she lays down looking deathly sick. Her beauty is a pale comparison to what Junsu is.

 

Yoochun shakes his head a little in amusement when he sees the pool of red staining the sheets under the Queen and the little soul floating right beside the Queen.

 

_Does Junsu know?_

 

“No. I don’t come to take her away from you,” Yoochun says after awhile, his tone is laced with delight, that for once nothing is screwing up his Junsu-related assignment. “But I come to take your daughter with me.”

 

Junsu doesn’t even look up at Yoochun when he hears that, but the light sniffs coming from him and the trembles on the slumped shoulders let Yoochun know that the man’s heart is breaking for the fact.

 

It pleases Yoochun to know that the man is dying a little inside.

 

~♥~

 

It isn’t long after that that Yoochun comes again to visit Junsu in the same room. The reason for his visit this time is for the Queen’s soul. The poor young woman has fragile enough heart that she can’t live bearing the death of her daughter, instead she chooses an easy way out by committing suicide.

 

That day, Yoochun sees how it is possible for a human to cry without actual tears. For the first time Yoochun witnesses how a broken heart can be so much worse than death itself.

 

Junsu doesn’t acknowledge his presence, not even a glance at Yoochun’s direction looming over the bloody figure of the Queen. Yoochun suspects the man is purposely ignoring him.

 

Nonetheless, the fact that Junsu is dying, /dying/, thrills him.

 

~♥~

 

The next time Death finds Junsu, the man is all alone in the castle. Yoochun raises his eyebrow as he notices the suffocating silence that seems to seize the usually bustling place. It seems unlikely that all the residents have left the place, leaving the King they all worship alone in the palace.

 

Yoochun looks around and notices the abandonment of the palace. Well, maybe they do leave their King.

 

“You come.” 

 

A whisper tears apart the silence.

 

Yoochun turns around to see Junsu sitting down on the floor, his body propping against the wall. Blood is flowing smoothly from his butchered wrist. A bloodied dagger rests on the floor in the middle of drying pool of blood.

 

How long has the man been sitting like this? How long has Junsu been waiting for Death to come at him?

 

“You want me to come,” Yoochun states, amused that the man has resort to commit a suicide like the late wife.

 

“I don’t see the point of living anymore.”

 

Yoochun quirks his brow. The not so young man looks bitter and lonely. Where has the young and charismatic King gone to? This man looks piteous in Death’s eyes and Yoochun doesn’t like it.

 

“Well, then. I may take you now and we will stop dancing around the life and death.” Yoochun steps closer and kneels in front of the dying man. He reaches out a hand to Junsu’s growing cold cheek and trails it down to cup the man’s chin and lifts it up so he can see the man’s eyes.

 

Yoochun throws a glance at Junsu’s burning thread of life, “Or I may not.”

 

Junsu looks at Yoochun straight in the eyes. “Take me with you,” he whispers out pathetically that makes Yoochun recoils his hand and steps back.

 

Looking down at the miserable man, Yoochun says coldly, “Unfortunately, Junsu, it is not your time yet.”

 

"Then when would it be?" Junsu yells out. "I have seen you one too many times and I am still alive!"

 

Yoochun swiftly moves back to kneeling in front of Junsu and sneers right at the man's pale face. "Do you think this pitiful attempt will bring you closer to me?"

 

Junsu looks away from Death. "I don't want to live."

 

Yoochun takes a grab at Junsu's chin and tilts the man's head. He leans closer and whispers into Junsu's mouth, "Then, die."

 

~♥~

 

_“Why don’t you take him with you?”_

_“It is not his time yet.”_

_“He is supposed to be death years ago.”_

_“It is not my will that miracles happened.”_

_“It is not a miracle this time, don't you think?”_

_“...”_

_“You love him, don’t you?”_

_“...”_

_“You fool!”_

_“I am nothing but his death.”_

 

~♥~


End file.
